


Good night, Scully

by 13starbuck42



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, MSR, Smut, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 17:36:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13552284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13starbuck42/pseuds/13starbuck42
Summary: This time it’s real, and he can’t believe she’s actually making that noise.





	Good night, Scully

_Jesus, Scully._

He’s been here before, pinning her against the door of his apartment.  Scully hot and slick and tight around him making that mewling noise that drives him wild as he cups her perfect breasts, one sweet round nipple in his mouth, then the other.

Except this time it’s real, not a product of his overactive imagination, and he can’t believe she’s actually making that noise.

He thrusts up, deep and hard, long strokes, trying desperately to make this last but unsure for how long.  The throaty moans she puts in his ear are encouraging, and he moves one hand around from her thigh to draw little circles around her clit, avoiding the direct contact that will drive her to nirvana.

They’d been finishing up some case notes. It was late, very late.  He offered his bed, electing to take the couch, but she’d wanted to go home; said she needed a shower and her own pillow.  He didn’t argue; they hadn’t been home in days.  

_Good night, Scully_ he’d said, but he selfishly wished she would stay because the noises she made in her sleep were adorable and comforting.  And they turned him on.

She lingered, though; piecing together the files, cleaning up their take out, rinsing the dishes in the sink, even feeding the fish.  She’d stepped into her shoes, picked up her briefcase, thrown her blazer over her arm.  Mulder had opened the door for her, and she walked out.   _Good night, Scully_ , he’d said again. Two steps, and she turned around to come back. She stood in the doorway under his arm, looked up at him expectantly.  

And then, Scully had pushed him back into his apartment with an index finger to his chest and reached back to swing the door closed behind her.  Lips parted, eyes wild, she dropped her briefcase and blazer to the floor.

His hands around her waist, hers threaded into his hair.  Tongues explored.  Breathing quickened and shallowed.  Hands roamed aimlessly, learning new tricks, trying new things.  This was not a tender moment.  It was not sweet and gentle.  It was messy, demanding, necessary.  

Mulder picked her up and her legs hitched around his hips.  The angle was perfect, and she ground herself against him.  He steadied her against the door to free his hands and began unbuttoning her blouse, sighing as he found her nipples, pinching and rolling and pulling at them.  She made the mewling noise again, and he focused his tongue on tasting her neck, jaw, earlobes, lips, collar bone.  His hips rocked into her.

_Scully…_ he moaned into her neck.  

_More_ , came her reply, and he dug his hand between them to cup her, feel her desire.  

_Yessss,_ she hissed.  

He needed to put her down, get them out of their clothes.  Turning away from the door, he set her feet back to the floor and she toed off her shoes.  Even in the dim light from the fish tank he could see that her skin was flushed.  He reached forward to finish unbuttoning her blouse. She stilled his hands, and he pulled back.

_Mulder…_ she started, a note of hesitancy creeping in.  But he didn’t let her finish.  Instead, he pulled off his own shirt.  Unbuckled his pants, stripped them off with his boxers in one quick pull, and stood there naked in front of her, vulnerable as all hell but so fucking hard that he didn’t care.  

She looked at him, licked her top lip and drew in a breath of admiration.  She’d seen him before, but not like this, not so… needy, desperate, ready.  Needy herself, she took off her blouse, casting it to the floor. Slowly, she removed her trousers, coyly looking up at him as she bent over, bottom lip caught in her teeth.  Clad only in bra and panties now, she turned away from him, facing the windows, thankful the blinds were pulled.  

_Fuck, Scully._

She unclasped her bra, dragging it down her arms, holding it out to the side by one strap, dropping it delicately to the floor in her own little striptease.  She wouldn’t let him see her just yet.  Her thumbs hooked her panties and she tugged them down, painfully slow, grinding her ass side to side and she shimmied them over her hips and down her thighs.  They were wet, as she knew they would be; they had been since she stood up to leave, maybe before.  She looked back over her shoulder and tossed the panties at him.  

Mulder caught them against his chest and could smell her desire immediately.  His mouth gaped in surprise when he felt the damp fabric.

_Fuck, Scully._

On the ball of her foot, she turned to face him.  Unguarded but not nervous.  She saw the almost imperceptible twitch of his hips and she felt herself liquify.

He stepped toward her, caught her as she launched herself at him, sinewy forearms around her thighs, broad hands kneading the flesh of her ass.  She could feel him at her entrance, the head of his cock teasing her clit, aching to be inside of her.

_Bed?_

She shook her head.   _No time._

And so he slammed her against the door of his apartment, plunging into her greedily, moaning her name, thrusting over and over and over again.   _Jesus, Scully._  The circles he’s making with his thumb get smaller, faster, barely grazing her clit in a torturous rhythm, and now she’s begging him.  

_Mulder, more.  More.  Right now_ , she says, breathlessly, demanding and fierce at his throat.

He moves his thumb just so; two, three, four more strokes and she’s coming, clenched solidly around him and she’s calling out.   _Fuck, Mulder.  Oh, God yessss… fuuucckkk_.  She throws her head back and he fists her hair, still driving into her, watching her come all over him.  His name is on her lips, escaping her mouth between wordless cries of pleasure and gasps for air.  He pushes deeper, and she subconsciously adjusts her hips to accommodate.  

She can barely breathe.   _Come for me, Mulder_ she whispers, gritty and raw.  She holds his gaze.    

And it sends him spiraling into oblivion.  Everything disappears, and he calls out her name.  He is aware only of her - the feel of her inside and out, sweat glistening on her skin, blue eyes shining brilliantly, her lithe body slick but firm against his.  He comes back reeling, their bodies mashed together, still crushed against the door.  His thighs ache and his arms are weak but he doesn’t want to let her go.

He carries her to the couch, still joined, and he sits so she can straddle him.  Slowly, she pulls herself up, leaving behind the evidence of their mutual gratification.  On her knees, she leans over for a blanket; her nipples are right there so he indulges, takes one into his mouth.  She comes back, wrapping them up in the blanket, and he whimpers when his mouth is empty.  Scully curls up in his lap, smiling into his chest.  

Hours later, Mulder wakes sore, too warm and sticking to the leather of his worn couch, sticking to her.  Scully is still curled in his lap.  He kisses her forehead and she stirs. _Mmm?_

_Bed?_  She nods, and he slides his arm under her knees to pick her up.  She loops her hands around his neck and when he stands, the blanket falls away.  He looks down at her face, her arms, her neck, her breasts, flushed and satisfied, and he smiles.

Carrying her into the bedroom, he lies her down and crawls in beside her.  Scully nestles in, fitting perfectly - just as she always has - and he draws the sheets up around them.

She is already asleep, making her adorable noises, and he is already thinking about what it will be like to hear those noises echoing out against the shower walls in the morning.

_Good night, Scully._


End file.
